The saucy, little squirrel
In the huge tree outside my window
Attacks each step through the great boughs
As if pursued by devils, a blur of fur.
Its precision is breathtaking.
It streaks like a russet-grey arrow
Flying along a branch
Right side up or upside down.
It stands on its hind legs, flashing its pale belly,
Stretching high for that twig with a tasty seed.
It hangs off a branch by a single paw,
Or its coiled tail,
Reaching far down for a nut below.
Down - down - down - DOWN -
And curling UP like an elastic band.
A tiny body in fluid motion!
It leaps from limb to limb
A shivering passage through the giant tree
Its weight so light, its force so deliberate.
Then it bolts head first down the trunk
It rarely sits
Except to peel a pod with dexterous claws
And ripping teeth
Dropping debris through the branches.
In the first light of morning
I slip from bed and spread the curtains
To catch the squirrel's early foraging.
Or, maybe - just its joy in the new dawn -
To be BUSY!
Winter is coming!
I smile, 'God bless, Little One.'
And my day is well begun.